Once More For the Road

by farrahdomid

I did it again.

A very long time ago, I promised myself that I would have nothing to do with you. I swore to every god in our overrated existence that I would never even mention your name. Yet, today, I did it again. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to rekindle our connection. I found every excuse as to why I should do it, but couldn’t think of one con against all the pros I’d created. In my dimwitted haste, I never once grazed past the idea that you would destroy me the same way you did all those years ago.

As I allowed myself to get on that perilous carousel of yours, I found myself feeling this rush. It was thrilling. Adrenaline coursed the blood in my veins, and yet all at once, it stopped the flow, stopped the circulation out of pure excitement. What pains me is that I don’t regret it. I’d be lying if I said I wish I’d never done it because while it was happening, I couldn’t help but think of how I could implement you into my daily life again. I couldn’t stop myself from feeling like I’d been missing out on something. As toxic as you are, I sit here and still, not a bone in my body feels the slightest bit of remorse. In fact, all I can feel is the acid burning the back of my throat. A familiarly disconcerting feeling, but comforting in all the right ways.

I’m conflicted because I’m trying to convince myself that it was a one-time only kind of thing, but we both know it wasn’t. Perhaps the most alarming thing of our brief, but tantalizing affair was my readiness. Before I decided to give myself up to you, I felt the long time addiction rising up from my throat. Shortly after, I watched as it poured out of mouth, right into yours, and I simply just could not stop. At one point, when I began to get really comfortable in my old dancing shoes, I found myself unable to hold back. The word ‘yes’ kept popping up in my head, and it just felt so right. My pace quickened and all I could think was, “more, more, more,” and “alright, just one more second,” but minutes followed that last second.

Looking into the mirror afterwards, I wish I could say I felt some kind of embarrassment. I’d love to admit to having been mortified and ashamed, but all I did was splash water on my face and into my mouth in hopes that it would cleanse me and rid me of my sins, rid the taste of our lovechild out of my mouth. Then, I flushed the toilet and never looked back. Sadly, I’ve been thinking about you all day. I’ve replayed my psychotic break over and over in my head, I can’t stop seeing myself jamming my finger down my throat while the little voice in my head egged me on.

I couldn’t stop, nor did I want to.

I hope I don’t see you again anytime soon, but now that I’ve flipped back to our chapter, I’m afraid we’ll be meeting again sooner than later.

It is amazing the tortures we put ourselves through. And how the worst of us, the parts of us that try to kill us are like our long lost lovers that we go back time and again to embrace even when we know they are toxic to us.